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PRICE, 35 CENTS 


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Too Many 
Wives 


By 

Sara Henderson 


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MARCH BROTHERS, Publishers 

208, 210, 212 Wright Avenue LEBANON, OHIO 






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CHURNING. The story in song of the little folks making butter at Grandpa’s. 
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DOLLY, YOU MUST GO TO BED. A charming doll’s lullaby, for any number at 
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Musically Accompanied Recitations 

POEMS WITH INTERPRETATIVE MUSICAL ACCOMPANIMENTS, AND 

LESSON TALKS 

BENEATH THE WILLERS; LITTLE BROWN BABY. In negro dialect. One 

very tender, the other humorous. Both in one number. 50c. 

LITTLE BOY BLUE. Pathetic story of dust-covered toys once owned hy little 
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MAMMY’S LULLABY; SECRETS. Splendid negro dialect. Both in one num¬ 
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OUR WASHINGTON. A strong patriotic number. 50c. 

SONG OF THE MARKET PLACE. Narrative of great singer and beggar girl. 50c. 

<d) 


Too Many Wives 


A DOMESTIC COMEDY 


BY 

SARA HENDERSON 


MARCH BROTHERS, Publishers 

208, 210, 212 Wright Avenue, LEBANON, OHIO 















Copyright, 1922, 

By March Brothers. 


StP 25 ’22 

©CI.D 6203S 




Too Many Wives 


CHARACTERS 

Jack Stanford— The young husband. 

“Honey Bea”— Jack’s wife. 

Frank Dalton— Jack’s old college chum. 

Will Thomson— Honey Bea’s cousin. 

John Stanford—J ack’s uncle from Indiana. 

Bridget— The Stanford’s cook. 

COSTUMES 

Frank Dalton— first costume, modern; second; 
fanciful negligee; boudoir cap. 

Will Thomson— first costume, modern; second, 
ballet costume. 

Bridget— first costume, maid’s; second, Irish comedy 
costume. 

Ot h ers— modern. 

PROPERTIES ' 

[Two suitcases. Two photographs. Purses. Maga¬ 
zines. Letter. Cigars.] 


3 






4 


TOO MANY WIVES 


SCENE 

[Living-room in the Stanford home. Door Center, 
back, leads upstairs; door Dozen R. leads outdoors; 
door Up R. leads into dining-room; door Up L. leads 
to library. Table Dozvn Center holds telephone, maga¬ 
zines and books. Chairs to right and left of table. 
Other furniture may be arranged in any way to make 
the stage look attractive and homelike.] 

[Discovered: Honey Bea humming snatches of a 
song, and arranging a few flowers for the table.] 

Honey Bea [calling] : Bridget! O, Bridget! 

Bridget [entering Door Up R.] : Yis. [Telephone 
rings as Bridget enters room.] 

Honey Bea: Just one moment, Bridget. [Answers 

'phone] Hello, hello.Yes, this is I. Do I know 

what day this is ? As if I could forget! —What ?— 

You’re coming home? Good! When?....... .Oh, 

how lovely! [To Bridget.] Bridget, Mr. Stanford is 
coming home for lunch. Hurry and cream some 

canned chicken, make a banana salad, and. oh 

dear! what can we have for desert ? 

Bridget: I’ve made some sthrawb’ry jillo wid some 
spanked cream on ut f’r his dinner t’night. 

Honey Bea: All right. We’ll use that, and you 
can prepare something else for his dinner. Do you 
know what day this is, Bridget? 

Bridget: Faith an’ I’d have to be deef in both 
ears of me av I'"didn’t. Ut’s y’r first anniversary, an’ 
ye’re goin’ t’ git twinty thousan’ dollars from Misther 
Jack’s rich owld Uncle, because ye’ve had no quarrel. 

Honey Bea : Oh, some one has told you. 





TOO MANY WIVES 


5 


Bridget: Yis. Yersilf ’ave towld me ev’ry day 
f’r the pasht year. Yer husban’ he ’ave towld me,— 
an’ yer cousin, Mishter Will, he ave towld me, an’ 
Miss Ann, she ’ave— 

Honey Bea [laughing] : Never mind, Bridget. I 
see some one has told you. 

Bridget : An’ Mishter Jack, bliss his swate sowl, 
have promised to give me a prisint whin he do git the 
money. 

Honey Bea [with enthusiasm] : I’ll give you one, 
too, Bridget. 

[Noise is heard outside Door Down 7?.] 

Goodness! There is Mr. Stanford now. Hurry, 
Bridget. 

[Exit Bridget Door Up iL] 

[Enter Mr. Stanford.] 

Stanford [kissing her] : Hello, Honey Bea. 
[Removes hat and coat.] I had to come as far as 
mother’s, on an errand, and I couldn’t he that near, 
and not come on home; especially on this day. 

Honey Bea : It’s a wonderful anniversary, isn’t 
it? Think how lovely it is going to be to have all 
that money! 

Stanford: I begin to feel like a capitalist already. 
Listen! [Takes letter from pocket and reads \ “and 
if your first anniversary leaves you as happy as your 
wedding day found you, wire me, and the money is 
yours.” 

Honey Bea [laughing] : Dear old thing! He has 
put that sentence at the bottom of every letter he has 
written us. 

Stanford [folding letter and replacing it in pocket] : 
I knew there was no need to wait until tonight, so I 
sent the telegram this morning. You are as happy, 
aren’t you, Honey Bea? 


6 


TOO MANY WIVES 


Honey Bea: Happier! Then, I wondered if you 
could possibly be as nice as I had dreamed you were; 
now, I know you are nicer! 

Stanford: Queer, isn’t it? That is exactly what 
I wired Uncle about you. 

Honey Bea : You know, dear, I think one reason 
we haven’t quarrelled is because we have never formed 
the habit of telling fibs to each other. Do you remem¬ 
ber the day we promised always to tell the truth ? 

Stanford [laughing]: Indeed I do! It was the 
farewell knell to my wonderful reputation as a fisher¬ 
man and my prowess as a hunter. That was a sad 
parting; but it has paid. Your quixotic love of the 
truth has completely changed Uncle. He used to be 
an unreasonable woman-hater; rwow, he is anything but 
that, and he thinks you are wonderful. By the Way, 
Honey Bea, he sent you a photo of himself. It’s there 
in my right-hand coat pocket. 

Honey Bea [going after photo] : How sweet of 
him! Your uncle is a dear. I wish he would come 
to visit us. 

Stanford : Why, he said in his letter that he is 
coming, soon. 

Honey Bea [looking at photograph] : He’s such 
a nice looking old man. I shall like him whether we 
get the twenty thousand or not. 

Stanford: Fine old chap. Been like a father to 
me,—but, I’ll have to confess that twenty thousand 
dollars would increase my affection for almost any 
one. 

Honey Bea : There’s really no danger of our not 
getting it, is there? 

Stanford: Not a chance. 


TOO MANY WIVES 


7 


Honey Bea [ discovering she has two photos] : Why, 
Jack, there are two photos here. Who is this other? 

Stanford: That? That’s my old college chum, 
Frank Dalton. You remember J wanted him for our 
best man, but he hadn’t come back from France. He’s 
a good old scout; you’re sure to like him. 

Honey Bea [coldly] : Perhaps. But this doesn’t 
happen to be a “he’’; it’s a “she”. 

Stanford: No, it isn’t. It’s Frank Dalton dressed 
as a girl. Makes a peachy looking girl, doesn’t he? 

Honey Bea : Entirely too peachy for me to be¬ 
lieve she is a man. 

Stanford: Well, she is. 

Honey Bea : She ? 

Stanford: Oh, well, you know what I mean. 

Honey Bea [slowly] : Yes,— I—think—I—do. 

Stanford : Don’t be foolish, Idoney Bea. 

Honey Bea: Of course not. Who is this girl? 

Stanford: Frank Dalton. 

Honey Bea [sarcastically] : Don’t you suppose I 
know the picture of a girl when I see it? 

Stanford : Good heavens ! Ploney Bea, you know 
I would not lie to you. 

Honey Bea : I had thought you' wouldn’t, but— 
can you explain this picture? 

Stanford: Very easily. I had adetter from Frank 
Dalton yesterday, asking me if I had one of these 
old girl-photographs of his, and to be sure to send it 
to him if I had. That was my errand to mother’s this 
morning. That is how I happen to have the pleasure 
of lunching with you today. Is that clear? 


8 


TOO MANY WIVES 


Honey Bea: Too clear! You invent quickly for 
one out of practice. I—wonder—if—you—are—out 
—of—practice ? 

Stanford : Why, Honey Bea ! Listen, dear— 

Honey Bea [ interrupting] : Don't “Honey Bea” 
and “dear” me until you can explain why you are 
carrying the photograph of a strange woman in your 
pocket. 

Stanford [almost beside himself] : This is absurd ! 
We can’t quarrel over Frank Dalton’s photograph. 
Look here, Honey Bea, you’ve simply got to under¬ 
stand. [Attempts to take her in his arms.] 

Honey Bea [jerking airny] : Don’t touch me, Jack 
Stanford! Here you’ve sworn you loved only me, 
and—and— [tearfully] you’ve been carrying another 
woman’s picture all this time. Oh! Oh! [tears photo¬ 
graph to pieces and stamps on it]. I just wish I could 
do her as I am doing this. 

Stanford: If you would only— 

Honey Bea [ interrupting ]: But I won’t! [getting 
her hat and coat]. I am going over to your mother’s 
now, but I shall take the very first train for home. 
And I am going to stay forever and ever and ever 
and ever— [exit tearfully, while saying “ever and ever 
and ever >J ]. 

Stanford [following and calling]: Bea! Bea! 
Honey Bea! [Turns dejectedly f goes to chair left of 
table, and leans his head on his hands.] Oh, it’s no use! 
Our first anniversary—and—our first quarrel. [Sighs 
deeply.] I suppose I shall have to wire Uncle about it. 
[Ring is heard at door Down 7?.] Who’s that, I 
wonder. [Goes to door; returns with telegram in 




TOO MANY WIVES 


9 


hand; opens it and reads] “On my way East. Stop 
ofi with you for couple days. Arrive this afternoon 
at five.” Good heavens! What a muddle! If he 
comes and finds Bea gone, he will think I have been 
lying to him all the year for the sake of that twenty 
thousand. 

Bridget [entering] : Misther Jack, yer loonch is 
riddy, but— [looking around] where’s the misthress? 

Stanford [embarrassedly] : Bridget, your mistress 
got angry with me,—and—left. 

Bridget: Lift? But then, ye nade nivir tell th’ 
uncle about ut. Ut’s no more nor a love-sphat. Shure 
an’ ut’s often I’ve carried a black eye f’r a wake wid 
Pat’s carisses. 

Stanford: I’ve just had a telegram from my uncle 
that he will be here this afternoon. 

Bridget : This afthernoon ? What does the owld 
fool want to come today for ? 

Stanford [smiling slightly] : You’ll have fi> ask 
him. 

Bridget [crossly, — with arms akimbo] : Bedad, 
ut do look loike the two av yez c’d have chose a betther 
toime than this. Thot’s two prisints I have lost! 

Stanford: I’m sorry, Bridget. It means quite a 
loss to me, ypu know. 

Bridget [sudden inspiration] : Bedad, Mishther 
Jack, ye’ve always been a good masther to me, an’ 
I’ll not be lettin’ ye lose twinty thousand’ dollars just 
f’r the lack of a plisint wife. We’ll till the owld 
gintleman thot I am your wife. 

Stanford [trying to conceal a smile] : Thank you, 
Bridget; that’s kind of you. But I am not going to 
lie about it. If I lose the money, I’ll have to lose it, 
that’s all. 


10 


TOO MANY WIVES 


Bridget: Shure an’ it’s mesilf thot always tills the 
truth whin ut’s nicissary. But a lie at a time loike this 
ain’t no lie,—ut’s no more than a little hilp in the 
time of trouble. You’d betther ate yer loonch, Misther 
Jack; mayhap yer morals won’t be so troublesome on 
a full stomach. 

Stanford: I’m not very hungry. I think I’ll not 
try to eat. [ Ring is heard at door 'Down R. Bridget 
starts to answer, hut Stanford interferes .] Never mind, 
I’ll attend to' it. [Goes to door. Enter Dalton.] 

Dalton [with enthusiasm] : Hello—Jacky. 

Stanford [surprised] : Why,—why, hello—Dal¬ 
ton— [Shakes hands]. More than glad to see you, old 
man, but how do you happen to be in this part of the 
country? I just got your letter yesterday. 

Dalton : I know. The man in charge of this dis¬ 
trict was called away, and I am to substitute until we 
can get another to take his place. 

Stanford : Why didn’t you wire you were coming? 

Dalton : Wanted to surprise you and your “Honey 
Bea” that you rave so much about. I’ve always been 
keen to know just what you drew in the matrimonial 
lottery. [Stanford suddenly registers gloom.] I say, 
you look worried. What’s wrong? 

% 

Stanford : Everything. 

Dalton [laughing] : Honey Bea been stinging? 

Stanford : No, but women are so darned unreason¬ 
able ! 

Dalton [ laughing ] : Sure they are! That’s why 
they marry us,—and Jacky, old boy, that’s why we 
marry them. Where can you find a bigger bore than 
an absolutely reasonable woman? 



TOO MANY WIVES 


11 


Stanford [crossly] : I don’t know. I never saw 
one. 

Dalton: You’re more fortunate than you realize. 
Now if you will enlighten me, perhaps I may be able 
to help you. What’s the trouble? 

Stanford [gloomily] : Well, this is our first anni¬ 
versary,— and we celebrated it by having our first 
quarrel. 

Dalton [ facetiously ]: Your first quarrel? Gee, 
but you’re lucky! How did you manage to stall it 
off for so long? 

Stanford [frowning] : Oh, well, if you’re going 
to jest— 

Dalton [interrupting] : Seriously, Jack, you aren’t 
doing all this worrying about a trifle like that? 

Stanford: Trifle? Wait until you know what 
you’re talking about. Uncle John was to put twenty 
thousand dollars in my name if this day left us as 
happy as our wedding day found us. I wired him 
this morning before we quarrelled,—but I suppose I 
can correct that just as soon as— 

Dalton [interrupting] : The deuce you can! 

Stanford : I’ll have to; I can’t lie about it because— 

Dalton [interrupting and scanning him closely as 
if discovering a new species] : I say! What do you 
think you are? A reincarnation of George Washing¬ 
ton ? 

Stanford: No, but I promised to stick absolutely 
to the truth ; besides— - 

Dalton [interrupting] : It was the truth when you 
wired,—and now, keeping your mouth closed is not 
a lie; it’s mere business sagacity. 


12 


TOO MANY WIVES 


Stanford: You’re worse than a woman, Dalton. 
You can’t let me finish one sentence without butting 
in all the time. What I have been trying to tell you 
is this: Bea has gone,—gone forever,—and I have 
just received a telegram from Uncle, stating he will 
arrive this afternoon at five. 

Dalton [whistling ] : Whew ! That’s different. 
But the thing to do is to phone your wife. She’ll 
come back at once when she understands. 

Stanford [sarcastically] : Any one would know 
you are a bachelor, Dalton. A bachelor is the only 
man on earth who knows exactly how to manage a 
wife. 

Dalton : I don’t have to be married, Tack, to know 
that nine wives out of ten do the very thing the 
husband is sure she won’t do. Try it, anyway. 

Stanford [taking down receiver] : I’ll do it, but 
it won’t do any good. Hello Central. Give me Main 
2084. That you, Mother?—I’d like to speak with 
Bea—She isn’t? Why, she said she was going there— 
Oh, I see. Which cousin is it,—Bert?—Is that so? 
What is it this time, a Cadillac?—They didn’t say 
where they were going, did they?—No-o, nothing 
wrong; I just wanted to ask her about something. 
Good bye, Mother. [Hangs up receiver.] Bea’s 
cousin Bert drove over in his new Cadillac. He is 
from her home. He was in love with her when I 
first met her. She has probably gone back home. I 
don’t care so much about the money, but I hate this 
quarrel with Honey Bea. 

Dalton : I see the twenty thousand skidding, my 
boy. It’s too bad. What did you two turtle-doves 
quarrel about, anyway? 


TOO MANY WIVES 


13 


Stanford: If you'll pick up those darned scraps 
on the floor, you'll find out. [Dalton picks up scraps; 
looks at them in surprise.] She knows you’re a woman. 

Dalton : By Jove! Did my beautiful face cause 
all this trouble? I’m flattered! If you could only 
get in touch with her, you could so easily explain, 
now that I’m here. 

Stanford: Yes,—if. But I am sure she has gone. 

Dalton [sudden inspiration ]: I’ve got it! I am 
the unwitting cause of all this tempest in the matri¬ 
monial sea,—and if you will kindly scrap that new¬ 
found conscience of yours, I’ll accept the responsibility 
of piloting you through to the port of Love and Money. 

Stanford : How ? 

Dalton: I’ll doll up in your wife’s clothes, and 
we’ll fool Uncle John. 

Stanford : I told you once, Dalton, that I would 
not lie in order to get the money. 

Dalton [impatiently] : Dash it all, man, that’s not 
a lie. If your Honey Bea knew the truth, there would 
be no quarrel. And think how she will feel when she 
learns that her stupidity has caused you to lose the 
money. She’ll never forgive you for not making it 
straight in some way. That’s the way of a woman. 
She gets a man in all sorts of tight places with the 
sublimest faith in his ability to extricate both himself 
and her, if necessary. 

Stanford: I believe you are right. We can ex¬ 
plain it all to Uncle when Bea gets back. Go upstairs, 
first room to the right, and put on anything you can 
find. The old chap is rather clever, so be sure you 
don’t talk too much, and give the thing away. 


14 


TOO MANY WIVES 


Dalton: You say he is clever? [Stanford nods.] 
Then remember it’s a woman I’m impersonating. 

Stanford [smiling] : I get you. But talk as little 
as you reasonably can. Til go up with you and help 
you dress. [Exeunt door Center Back.] 

Bridget [entering, talking to herself] : Shure, the 
young idgits! To give up twinty thousand fer a bit 
av bad timper, an’ he nivir to bate her wanst! An’ 
there’s both av me prisints gone. Bedad, I know 
what I’ll do. I’ll run over to Nora Moriarity’s, borry 
her new grane silk driss, an’ I'll pretind I am the 
misthress. Misther Jack ’ll nivir dare to> give it away, 
onct I have started it. I’ll slip out the back dure. 
[Exit door Up R. As soon as she is off stage, doorbell 
of door Down R. rings violently. Stanford enters 
from Door Center Back.] 

Stanford [calling]: Bridget! Bridget! Where in 
the world is she? [Opens door Down R. Enter Will.] 
Hello Billy, come in. I thought you were in college. 

Will : I am. Our frat is going to put on a swagger 
show next week and I came home to borrow, steal or 
buy some feminine toggery. Make some swell chorus 
girl, won’t I ? 

Stanford : A scream. 

# 

Will: I just dropped in to congratulate you. This 
is the day you get your twenty thousand, isn’t it. 

Stanford : It was, but— 

Will [interrupting] : But what? . Nothing has 
happened, I hope. I’ve already borrowed money on 
the strength of you and Cousin Bea coming into that 
twenty. 

Stanford : Honey Bea and I had a slight misunder¬ 
standing,—and she has left me. 


TOO MANY WIVES 


15 


Will: Left you? Honey Bea left you? 

Stanford: She has. 

Will [consolingly] : Oh well, never mind. She'll 
fly back all right. Just give her time. 

Stanford: Time is the trouble. I’ve just had a 
telegram from Uncle that he will arrive at five this 
afternoon. 

Will: This afternoon? Well, it’s fortunate that 
Honey Bea hasn’t gone very far. I saw her about 
fifteen minutes ago, down town. 

Stanford [grasping his hand ] : You did? Where? 

Will : At Drake’s department store. Honey Bea 
didn’t see me. I was several aisles over from her, 
and by the time the clerk had given me my change, 
she had gone. She probably went to the second floor; 
you’d better hurryx>n down there and get her. 

Stanford : I shall. Make yourself at home, Billy, 
I’ll be right back. I simply have to find her, you 
know. 

Will: I’ll say you do! Good luck to you. [Stan¬ 
ford exit door Down R. putting on coat as he goes.] 
Just like a fool girl to flare up at the wrong time. I 
wonder what they quarrelled about. I bet Jack has 
been telling her the truth about something. I’ve just 
been waiting to see this truth-fest of theirs lead into 
some sort of trouble. Truth, the naked Goddess who 
lives in the bottom of a well! And old Jack hasn’t 
learned yet that when she comes to the surface she 
needs a bit of drapery, especially if she is to be in¬ 
troduced to ladies. The trouble with Jack is that he 
doesn’t know how to distinguish between telling a lie— 
and merely draping a shivering goddess, f Sudden 
inspiration .] By George, I know what I’ll do! I’ll 
dress up in my chorus-girl costume and pretend that 


16 


TOO MANY WIVES 


I am Jack’s wife. [Exit door Up Left, taking suit 
case.} [Enter Dalton garbed in fanciful negligee and 
boudoir cap; swishes negligee about his feet.} 

Dalton : My word! I’m glad I don’t have to 
wear skirts. [Looking at clock.} Three o’clock. Two 
hours yet to wait. What did I do with my cigars? 
[Feels down front of dress.} I don’t see how the poor 
things get along without pockets. [Pulls up skirt and 
takes bill-book from his garter.} Here’s my bill-book, 
but what did I do with my cigars? [Sudden thought.} 
Oh, yes, I remember— [Takes them from under his 
boudoir cap; starts to light one as doorbell Down R. 
rings. Hastily replaces cigars under cap , and goes 
to door.} [Speaking in a high treble.} Ah! This 
must be dear Uncle John. Come right in. 

Uncle John [entering} : It is. 

Dalton [gushing} : We’re so delighted to have you, 
dear Uncle, but we were not expecting you until five. 

Uncle John [laughing} : Yes, yes. I wanted to 
surprise you. 

Dalton [wry face}: You have! But my dear 
Uncle, Jack has told me so much about you, I feel I 
already know you. [Clasps hands and looks romantic.} 
Jack is such a wonderful husband ! I knew from the 
first we would get the twenty thousand. He is 
adorable! We never quarrel. 

Uncle John [removing coat} : Ah, my dear! No 
wonder the young rascal does not quarrel with such 
a charming young wife. Come here and kiss your 
old uncle. [Dalton submits, making a wry face. Enter 
Stanford.} 

Stanford [aside} : Darn ! 

Dalton [noticing Stanford} : Jack, dear, here’s 
Uncle. 


TOO MANY WIVES 


17 


Stanford [ rushing forward] : Well, Uncle, this is 
a great pleasure, I am sure. Honey Bea and I have 
been wishing you would make us a visit. 

Dalton [gushingly] : Indeed we have! I’ve 
always wanted you to know how perfectly devoted 
dear Jack is to me. [Looks languishingly at Stanford.] 

Stanford: Just sit down and make yourself at 
home, Uncle, while Dalt. .. .er. . . .Honey Bea and I 
run up an arrange your room. [Takes up suitcase in 
one hand, and puts other arm around Dalton; exeunt 
center door Back. Dalton kicks at Stanford as they pass 
through doorway.] 

Uncle John [gazing after them a second, then 
chuckling and rubbing his hands delightedly] : Shy 
little thing! They are as happy as two bugs in a rug. 
And such a lover of truth! She has completely re¬ 
formed him. Well, well, I may make it twenty-five 
thousand. Jack is a good boy. [Enter Bridget . | 

Bridget: Bedad! It’s yoursilf thot’s here already, 
is ut? 

Uncle John [astonished. Gazing at her through 
his spectacles] : It is. And may I ask, my good 
woman, who you are? 

Bridget: Who? Me? I am Jack’s wife. 

Uncle John: His what? 

Bridget [shouting] : Yez must be deef. His wife, 
—w-i-f-e—wife. 

Uncle John: I see. Just how many of you are 
there, anyway? 

Bridget : Bedad, darlint, where did ye git ut ? 

Uncle John [stiffly] : Get what, Madam? 


18 


TOO MANY WIVES 


Bridget : Whatever ut is thot’s makiir ye see double. 
Sure an’ I ’aven’t had a dacent mince pie since th’ 
eighteenth amindment wint in. Where’s Misther,— 
1 mane where’s Jack? 

Uncle John: He is upstairs with his other—with 
the baggage, you know. 

Bridget : Bliss the heart av him! An' ’tis yer- 
silf thot’s a good owld sowl to be givin’ us twinty 
thousand’ dollars. Shure an’ Jack have been the 
foine husban’ to me. He ain’t nivir blacked me eye 
wanst, an’ this tooth I losht was by one of me other 
husban’s. 

Uncle John [shocked] : Your other husbands! 
Pray, Madam, how many have you had ? 

Bridget : I’ve losht count by now. But they’re all 
dead, God rist their souls, exceptin’ Jack, the dar- 
lint. \ Makes sign of : the cross, j Yez c'n till him thot 
I have wint to the kitchen to cook the dinner. [Exit 
door Up R.] 

Uncle John [looking after her] : Bless my soul! 
The poor creature must be insane. Odd she should 
be under the impression that she is my nephew’s wife. 
[Begins to read paper. Enter Honey Bca door Dozmi 
R.; does not observe Uncle John.] 

Honey Bea [Head dozmi; talking to herself] : I 
forgot my pocketbook. [Discovers Uncle John.] 
Goodness gracious! That looks like Jack’s Uncle 
John. [Approaches him.] I beg your pardon, but is 
this Mr. John Stanford of Indiana? 

Uncle John: It is. [Aside. ] I’ll bet she says 
she is Jack’s wife. [To her.] And who are you, 
Miss ? 

Honey Bea: Why, I am Jack’s wife. 


TOO MANY WIVES 


19 


Uncle John [aside] : I thought so! [Scruti¬ 
nizing her through his spectacles.] His wife, eh? You 
say you are his wife? 

Honey Bea : Yes, but we will not get your twenty 
thousand. 

Uncle John [surprised] : Eh? What’s that? 
Not get the twenty thousand. Why, bless my soul, 
this is something new! 

Honey Bea [emphatically] : I wouldn't live with 
him for one hundred and twenty thousand! [Sobbing.] 
He carries other women’s pictures in his pockets ! 

Uncle John [confused] : Dear me! Bless my 
soul! This is surprising. My nephew must be a very 
wicked young man, and I thought him so truthful! 
I have been deceived. 

Honey Bea [sobbing] : So have I, Uncle. I still 
love him, but I never want to see him again. \ Noise 
is heard door Up Left.] S-h-hh! Let me get my 
purse. [Takes purse from table drawer.] I wouldn’t 
have Jack know I came back, for anything. Please 
don’t tell him. [Exit hurriedly door Down R.] 

Uncle John: Well, well, well! What next? I 
think Jack must have embraced the Mormon religion. 
Three! Bless my soul, the young beggar needs a 
million instead of twenty thousand! Nevertheless, I 
think J shall leave my money to a home for stray 
cats. [Enter Will clad in ballet costume, door Up 
Left.] ' 

Will [dancing, arms outstretched, tozvard Uncle 
John]: Ooo—la—la, Nunkey! 

* 

Uncle John [adjusting his glasses in horrified sur¬ 
prise] : Bless my soul, now, who are you? 


20 


- TOO MANY WIVES 


Will [ airily ] : Who? Me? Why, I am Jack’s 
baby girl! Hasn’t he written you about his little 
Honey Bea? 

Uncle John [severely] : He wrote me about one, 
but I didn’t know he had a hive of ’em. 

Will: Wrong, Nunky. There’s only one bee in 
this hive, and I am it. [Looks the old gentleman over.] 

I say old dear, you are some sport! 

Uncle John [severely] : 'Young woman, I do not 
approve of slang. 

Will [confidently] : Neither do I, but your modest 
and truthful young nephew is so bloomin’ slow that 
he does not allow me to use anything stronger than 
slang. I hope you will be able to speed him up. 
Twenty thousand ought to help some, eh, old thing? 

Uncle John: I must not have heard you cor¬ 
rectly. Surely there is a mistake somewhere. Who 
did I understand you to say you are? 

Will: Jack’s honey-lovey-dovey, angel-from 

abovey, but listen, sweet thing; [Chucks the scan¬ 
dalized old mail under the chin.] If I had seen you 
first, I should never have married Jack! 

Uncle John [drawing away indignantly] : Young 
woman, you are the fourth lovey-dovey I have met 
here today, but you’re the first to coo at me. I shall 
leave at once. 

Will: Leave? I should say not! Come on, lovely 
one, and let me show you the latest'dance. [Grabs 
the old gentleman and whirls him noisily across the 
stage attempting to make him dance. After many 
puffs and pants, Uncle John succeeds in extricating 
himself from Will's arms, when they are near, or di¬ 
rectly in front of door Up Left.] 


TOO MANY WIVES 


21 


Uncle John [ panting ] : Excuse me! There are 
too many bees buzzing in this hive. I shall leave at 
once. [Exit hurriedly, running across stage to door 
Down Right. The noise brings Stanford and Dalton 
to door Center Back; Bridget to door Up R.] 

Stanford [angrily] : What’s all this row, iany- 
way ? 

Will: I didn’t like to see you lose that twenty 
thousand, Jack, so I told your Uncle that I was your 
wife. 

Stanford [angrily] : My heavens! What sort of 
a wife do you want him to think I have? 

Bridget : F’r the love av Moike. I towld the owld 
gintleman thot I was your wife. [Stanford falls in 
chair in despair. Will stands on left of chair; Dalton 
sits on right arm of chair.] 

Dalton : And, of course, he thinks I am your 
wife. 

Stanford [tragically] : Everything is ruined! 
Wife gone,—money gone— 

Bridget : I am sorry, Misther Jack. Me intintions 
was good. 

Dalton and Will [together] : So were mine. 

Stanford [sighing resignedly] : That’s all tight.. 
Hell’s paved with ’em. 

Bridget : An’ bedad, ut looks as if your friends 
had took the conthract f’r the whole job! [All laugh. 
Enter Honey Bea and Uncle John.] 

Honey Bea [scornfully] : So these are your other 
Honey Beas! 


22 


TOO MANY WIVES 


Stanford | trying to spring from his chair, but held 
in place by Will and Dalton] : Honey Bea! 

Honey Bea [recognizing Will] : For goodness’ 
sake, Will! What are you doing dressed up like that? 

Will: Playing the part of a Honey-Bea, dear 
Cousin. [Pulls off his wig and grins at Uncle John.] 

Uncle John: Bless my soul! 

Honey Bea [conf used,—to Dalton] : And you— 
are you a Honey Bea, also? 

Dalton : Only a drone in masquerade, trying to 
save that twenty thousand. [Takes off wig and bows 
to Honey Bea.] 

Honey Bea [appealingly] : Jack, can you ever for¬ 
give me? 

Stanford: Can I? [Embracing her.] I’ll say I 
can! 

Bridget : An’ I turned mesilf into a Honey-Bea 
to save thim two prisints fer mesilf, an’ the twenty 
thousan’ fer two' young id jits thot cilibrated their first 
anniversary by havin’ their first quarrel. 

Honey Bea [smiling happily] : You’re wrong, 
Bridget; there was just one idiot, and that was I. 

Bridget [Going toward door Up L.] : Yez naden’t 
worrit none, me dear; av all the idjits was took out of 
this wurruld, there’d be mighty few wimmen lift,— 
an’ no min! [Exit door Up Left.] 

Uncle John [laughing immoderately] : Bless my 
soul. God bless my soul! So that was it! Well, 
well, well! Ha! ha! ha! 

Stanford [surprised] : What’s the matter, Uncle 
John ? 


TOO MANY WIVES* 


23 


Uncle John [laughing J : Ha! ha! I didn’t stipu¬ 
late you two were not to quarrel. I don’t expect the 
impossible. What I said was: “If your anniversary 
leaves you as happy as your wedding day found you.’’ 
Now, does it? 

Honey Bea : O Uncle, yes! 

Stanford : By George, happier! 

Bridget [poking head through doorway Up Left.] 
Dinner is served. 




CURTAIN 


Children’s Dialogs and Plays 

CROWNING THE MAY QUEEN. A delightful May Day play. Children go May¬ 
ing, crown a queen, wind Maypole, encounter gypsy, etc. Great excitement. 35c. 

THE DOLE’S SYMPOSIUM. Toy Shop at night. Dolls and toys have great frolic. 
Spicy dialog. Fancy drills and specialties introduced. Clever. 35c. 

THE DOLLY SHOW. The dearest little “baby show” ever. Each little girl dis¬ 
plays her dolly to best advantage to wise little judge; in cute rhyme; easy. 25c. 

FAVORITE DRAMATIZATIONS. Contains “Red Riding Hood,” ‘‘The Three 
Bears,” “The Hare with Many Friends,” ‘‘The Wonderful Piper,” and ‘‘The 
Pumpkin Tree.” All very desirable and easily produced by primary pupils. 35c. 

A GOOSE AND SOME GEESE. A jolly little Mother Goose play with a very 
pointed climax. No Itothersome scenery or properties required. Very amusing. 25c. 

THE HOLIDAYS’ CARNIVAL. St. Valentine’s Day, April Fools’, Easter, Hal¬ 
lowe’en, Christmas and other holidays represented by children. March, songs. 25c. 

THE KNICKERBOCKERS AT SCHOOL. A ‘‘Dutch” burlesque. Very comic 
presentation of old-fashioned Dutch school and customs. Quaint and funny. 35c. 

LI GH THE ART. Allegorical play in two acts. 7 m., 12 or more f. Boy, assisted 
by Work, Courage and Wisdom, travels to City of Success, is beset by Folly, 
rescued by Ligbtheart, bravest of Fairy Band, finally meets Love. 35c. 

ORIGINAL DIALOGS FOR ANY TIME. Splendid collection of witty, spicy, 
lively dialogs. We guarantee their excellence. Primary and Intermediate. 35c. 

PAT AND HIS COUNTRYMEN. Brisk dialog abounding with Irish wit, for gram¬ 
mar or high school. Splendid for St. Patrick’s Day. Instructive. 2 m. 25c. 

PETITE PLAYS. Collection of the spiciest comic dialogs, comedies and farces, by 
best American authors. Short, strong, witty; not difficult. 2 to 6 parts. 40c. 

PUPPET PLAYS FOR SPECIAL DAYS. Contains ten Puppet plays arranged fcr 
all the holidays and special days of the school year. Very easily produced. 40c. 

ROYALTY IN OLD VIRGINIA. Historical play portraying thrilling events in life 
of Powhatan, Pocahontas and Capt. John i'imith. Grammar or high school. 35c. 

SCHOOL PLAYS FOR FESTIVE DAYS. Over a score of the richest, spiciest 
dialogs for all grades. Every one a winner. Bright and instructive. 40c. 

YANKEE DOODLE’S TRIP TO DIXIE. A Revolutionary adventure. Full of 
patriotism. For grammar grades. 3 scenes. 6 in., 6 f. 30 minutes. 25c. 

Good English Week Entertainments 

GOOD ENGLISH PROGRAM. An up-to-date program to be used in celebrating 
Good English Week. In two parts, a bright, snappy minstrel and a mock trial 
of Bad Speech. 1% hours. 25c. 

THE DOWNFALL OF POOR SPEECH. The Queen of the English Language 
with her ladies-in-waiting, assisted by gallant courtiers, wage war and defeat 
Poor Speech and his outlaw’s. A very desirable production. 25c. 

Plays for High School and Adults 

AL MARTIN’S COUNTRY” STORE. Unsurpassed for merriment. Country store’s 
customers, loafers, gossipers, lovers, etc. Splendid climax. Loads of fun.' 35c. 

AND THE LAMP WENT OUT. A screamingly funny pantomimic performance. 
Clever beyond description. 2 males, 2 females, and reader. 35c. 

CABBAGE HILL SCHOOL. Humorous play for children or young people. New 
‘‘skewd-marm” on opening day. Capricious pupils, august visitors, etc. 35c. 

CATCHING CLARA. An up-to-date commencement play. Great excitement, thrill¬ 
ing time, lots of fun. 3 scenes, 10 males, 15 females, or more. 40c. 

THE CHARITY PUPIL. Boarding school episode, lively with vivacious pranks 
and exciting times. Strong plot with happy climax. Splendid class play. 35c. 

A CORNER IN HEARTS. A clewer and amusing little parlor play. All lovers 
propose to the same girl. Rich humor. Pleasing situations. 4 m., 1 f. or 5 m. 25c. 

THE CRIMSON AND THE BLUE. 0 m., 6 f. Highest type commencement play. 
Brilliant success. Acting rights free to purchaser of 12 copies. 40c. 

CUPID’S JOKE. Charming little drama in which Cupid gets ‘‘busv.” Splendid for 
St. Valentine’s Day or any social occasion. 5 m., 5 f. and Cupid. % hr. 25c. 

A DAY AT HAPPY HOLLOW” SCHOOL. New play of the “Deestrick Skule” 
type. Full of wit and clever drollery. City auto party vs. rural youngsters. 35c. 

A DICKENS REVIVAL. An elaborate play introducing 40 Dickens characters. 
Very clever plot w'hich gathers interest and culminates in pleasing climax. 35c. 

THE DISPELLING OF BIG JIM. Negro farce. Big Jim is tried by officia’s of 
Big Bethel Church for misdemeanor. Great excitement. Darkv humor. S m. 25c. 

THE GOLDEN GOBLET. Exceedingly clever farce with female cast, for Bachelor 
Girls’ and Women’s Clubs, etc. Uproariously funny. 12 females. 1 hour. 40c 

THE HEIR OF MT. VERNON. Colonial Society plav. Washington’s sterling 
manhood and rare courtesy portrayed. Old plantation melodies, etc. 8m, 8 f. 35c 

(a) 


Plays for High School and Adults 

ITER SUPERIOR INTELLIGENCE. A comedy; one of the cleverest bits of r< 5 * 
freshing humor ever conceived, 2 m., 1 f. One scene. 40 minutes. 85c. 

HIAWATHA DRAMATIZED, High-grade drama arranged from Longfellow’s 
masterpiece; vivid dramatic scenes. Contains description of costumes, Indian 
music, and other details necessary. Time, 1 hour. 35c. 

HOW SHE MANAGED IT, A bewitching young lady resorts to a very plausible 
plot for securing a proposal and succeeds. Ideal parlor play. Clever. 1 m., 1 f, 25c, 

IN THE WAKE OF PAUL REVERE. Exciting incidents of revolutionary days 
woven into a charming play. Makes life in the old days real. Delightful. S5c, 

JOY OF THE L. V. Thrilling Wild West play. Clever and humorous; depicting 
cowboys in love, jealousy and intrigue. Very meritorious. 10 m., 2 f. 35c, 

A LITTLE HEROINE OF THE REVOLUTION. Brave little girl with clever 
tact deceives British and passes their lines with message to General Marion. 35c. 

THE LOST VILLAGE. An eighteenth and twentieth century contrast. Inhabi¬ 
tants still live as did their Puritan ancestors. When Prudence returns a full- 
fledged twentieth century girl, things happen. 10 m., 5 f. 30 min. 25c. 

LOVERS OF ALL AGES. Unique novelty for high schools, colleges, clubs, eta. 
Beautiful presentation of famous lovers of all times. 1 m., 18 f. and Cupid. 85c, 

MARRIED TO A SUFFRAGETTE. Bobbs is left to ’tend the baby. Baby dis¬ 
appears. Reward offered. Babies returned by the dozen. Rare fun. 25c. 

THE MASONIC RING. Society play of excellent literary merit, spicy and clever. 
A succession of provoklngly funny climaxes. Splendid for any time. 40c. 

MOTHER GOOSE BAZAAR. Money-making specialty. Jolly folk from “Goose- 
land” do cute stunts, sing catchy rhymes, selling their wares, etc. 25c. 

OLD COLONY DAYS. New dramatization of the Courtship of Miles Standlsh, 
reproducing story in language of the poem. 3 m., 1 f., or more. 1% brs. 85c„ 

A PLAIE FOR MERRIE MAY TYME. Adaptation of old English Maypole game 
and folk dance, with music of period. 14 females. 35 minutes. 25c. 

PUPPET PLAYS FOR SPECIAL DAYS. Contains ten puppet plays arranged for 
all the holidays and special days of the school year. Very easily produced. 40c, 

THE RUMMAGE SALE AT HICKORY HOLLOW. One of those little satires 
that provokes the merriest humor. Rare old treasures “sacrificed.” 25c. 

THE SALOON MUST GO. An engaging but powerful anti-saloon play. Splendid 
for campaign. A bombardment qf hot shot, song and story. 25c. 

SHAKESPEARE UP-TO-DATE; A nonsense play in which well-known Shake¬ 
spearean characters face present-day problems. 6 females. 30 minutes. 85c. 

TWO MERRY WAGERS. Society play for adults. 1 m., 3 f. Flot interesting, 
style excellent. Good opportunity for Irish female. Plays about 30 minutes. 
One scene. 25c. 

UP-TO-DATE AMERICA or THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE’S DREAM. 

Unique, humorous, surprising climax. 10 m., 10 f., or more. 1% hours. 35c. 

YERA’S VACATION. Nothing so delightful as this absorbing “story” of a vaca¬ 
tion with summer boarders. Eccentric characters. Rich fun. 4 m., 5 f. 35c. 

THE WAIF’S THANKSGIVING. Play. Appreciation of wealthy lady shown 
waif, leads to recovery of her little kidnapped son. Charming. 5 m., 4 f. 85c. 

WHEN PAW-PAW COUNTY WENT DRY. Thrilling drama of action. Ban¬ 
ners, processions, songs, argument, love. Exciting plot. Loads of fun. 35e. 

A WOMAN’S PRIVILEGE. Three-act play suitable for high school. Foolish 
fads and fancies of present-day styles; democracy in dress wins. A presentation 
of a needed reform. 3 males, 8 females. 35c. 

WOOING JANE. A bright and vivacious parlor scene, Thurston’s train leaves in 
half boar. His proposal to Jane is provokingly Interrupted, but bo succeeds. 25c, 


Operettas 

THE BELLES OF FOL-DE-ROL. An operetta for adults. Written for voice* 

of medium range throughout. Text and musical setting are most excellent; high- 
elass production. 8 males, 7 females; chorus if desired. 50c. 

THE FLOWER NYMPHS’ SURPRISE. Spectacular operetta. Music brilliant 
and captivating. Charming production. Good for last day. 8 m., 8 f. 85o, 

JACK FROST’S MISTAKE. Clever operetta. Jack and Sprites “wake up” Santa, 
mistaking Thanksgiving for Christmas; brisk and jolly; 8 or more boys. 35o. 

QUEEN OF THE YEAR. Winter cantata for schools. Any number of boys and 
girls. Music simple, but unusually pleasing. 25c. 

THE RUN-A-WAY BEAR. Full of spicy fun. Music dainty and exceptionally 
pretty. Introduces “Toddy Bear Parade.” etc. Very clever. 50c. 

THE TOYS’ REBELLION. Unique operetta. Dolls and toys refuse to leave Toy- 
land. Santa bappily adjust* matters. Bright and pleasing. 40e» 

<b> 



Famous Funny Far 

FIVE FOR 25 CENTS. NOT LESS THAN jcxv-ri sulu 



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0 010 92 

4 281 0 


AUNT JANE VISITS SCHOOL. By Jeannette Joyce. Any number of males and 
females. Aunt Jane spends a morning in a modern school. A roaring farce. 

AUNT JERUSHA AND UNCLE JOSH. By Effie Louise Koogle. 1 male, 2 
females. These eccentric folks visit the school, producing no end of fun. 

AUNT LUCINDA STAYS. By Willis N. Bugbee. 2 males, 2 females. Two darky 
characters make lots of fun. Clever and clean. 


“BEAT IT!” By Willis N. Bugbee. 3 males, 1 female. A scolding wife makes 
trouble for everybody, the parson included. Oceans of fun. 

BETTY AND BETSY. By Willis N. Bugbee. 2 males, 2 females. Betsy was 
advertised for sale, but he wanted Betty. Bright and pretty. 

THE BUGTOWN BAND. By Archibald Humboldt. 4 males, 1 female. More 
fun than you can imagine, and a little music which anybody can make. 

THE BUZZVILLE NEWS. By Effle Louise Koogle. 2 males, 1 female. A breezy 
conversation between the manager and new editor. A sure hit. 


DOT ENTERTAINS. By Elizabeth F. Guptlll. 1 male, 1 female. Dot entertains 
her big sister’s beau, and the things she tells him are a plenty. A big success. 

THE GOOSE FEATHERBED. By Willis N. Bugbee. 4 males, 1 female. A 
dandy little play for Irish and eccentric characters. Easy and amusing. 

HASTE MAKES WASTE. By Harriette Wilbur. 3 males. Young drug clerk 
grabs the wrong bottle, and learns that haste makes waste. 

IN A DOCTOR'S OFFICE. By Jeannette Joyce. 4 males, 6 females. A laugh¬ 
able take-off on the specialist of today, in which some of the follies of humanity 
are exposed. 

LAUGHTER AND SONG. By Archibald Humboldt. 3 males, 4 females. Oomlc 
dialog interspersed with jolly songs, making a continuous funny atory. 

LOOK OUT FOR HEZEKIAH. By Louise R. Bascom. 3 males, 1 female. Hay¬ 
seed parents visit college dean. Splendid opportunity for clever acting. 

THE LUNATIC OR THE PROFESSOR. By Louise R. Bascom. 2 males, 2 
females. Lunatic mistaken for brain specialist; hard on the lunatic. Great. 

MORE TIME OUT. By Carolyn F. Rice. 7 females. An amusing comedy dealing 
with the servant problem. The characters are strongly contrasted. Effective. 

NO PEDDLERS ADMITTED. By Jeannette Joyce. 2 males, 1 female. The 
busy man intended not to buy, but the peddler had & suave manner. 

A PROPOSAL IN GRANDMA’S DAY. By Jeannette Joyce. 2 males, 2 fe¬ 
males. Full of fun. 


“OH, YOU TEACHER!” By C. A. Donaldson. 8 males, 4 females. A splendid 
comedy of school life, showing the amateur teacher’s trials. Suited for schools. 

ONE ON THE AGENT. By Louise Rand Bascom. I male, 1 female. A clever 
skit, bright with telling repartee. Recommended for all occasions. 

THE “PHYSICAL TORTURE” CLUB. By W. N. Bugbee. 2 m„ 2 f. Physical 
culture exercises for which Ma is too stout and Pa is too rheumatic; funny. 

RASTUS BLINK’S MINSTRELS. By E. L. Koogle. For any number. Hia 
“Kinky Koons” are killing; jolliest minstrel show ever; deluge of drollery. 

“SCAT!” By Louise Rand Bascom. I male, 1 female. Cunning attempt of an 
old maid to prove her youth. Very laughable. 

SEEING THE ANIMALS. By Clara J. Denton. I male, 2 females. A swell 
hotel clerk, a suffragette and a spoiled child make a lively time. A hit. 

THE SQUASHVILLE FIRE BRIGADE. By W. N. Bugbee. 3 males, 2 females, 
and other firemen, if desired; bright and snappy; easy and clever. 

THE STUPID WITNESS. By Archibald Humboldt. 3 males. The lawyer and 
witness lock horns and have an awful time, but it’s fun for the audience. 
Swift and keen. 


THE TRAIN LEAVES IN TEN MINUTES, By L. R. Bascom. 1 male, 2 
females. Will they catch the train? The suspense is punctured by fun and wit. 

THE TRAIN TO MORROW. By Jeannette Joyce. 2 males, 2 females. Con¬ 
fusion in a railway statiou. Strikingly funny. 

THE TRAVELING PHOTOGRAPHER. By Kate Alice White. 3 males, 2 
females. He unexpectedly visits a farmer’s family. All work is stopped and 
they pose for the picture. 

AN UP-TO-DATE PROPOSAL. By Jeannette Joyce. 2 males, 2 females. 
Will keep the audience interested every minute. Effective when used with 
“A Proposal in Grandma’s Day.” but each complete in itself. 

WANTED: A LICENSE TO WED. By Elizabeth F. Guptlll. 2 males, 1 femald. 
Humorous situation resulting from a misunderstanding. Irish diuleet, 

(c) 













